


The Dream

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, None - Freeform, Series: WerCat - was Moodring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark night, a lonly wolf and a glimpse at destiny.<br/>This story is a sequel to Prequel - Moodring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I once wrote some short stories, called the Moodring Series. It had magic, two witches and junk jewellery in it. People kept asking about how Simon and Daryl became wercats, (which the stories revealed they had just recently become, and now relied on Blair for help.) so I wrote the Werecat series, which I have yet to type up. 
> 
> This is a little prequil fun, to set the stage. Thank you to my beta reader Kelly. Thank you Kelly!

## The Dream

by Fire Frog

Author's webpage: <http://www.wn.com.au/firefrog/senwarn.htm>

Author's disclaimer: The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly. All rights reserved. No infringement of copyright intended. No money changed hands.

* * *

Moodring - The Dream. 

By Fire Frog. 

There was a place neither this side nor that of dreams. At it's heart lay a still pool with stars and clouds reflected on its surface. The large full moon hovered just above the horizon, casting a pale light. A lone gray wolf trotted up to lap at the reflective waters. The cold chill of the deep pool was fresh and invigorating to the far traveled animal. Thirst quenched, the wolf sat and looked about himself. No one. The shore was empty. It was a shame, thought the wolf, to view this beautiful night alone. 

And wolves don't like to be alone. They travel so at necessity, but in their hearts, they seek the pack. Brothers and sisters to care for, and to care for in return. The unity of being with those who understood you, who journey along the same path. There was no one to walk with him through the many wild nights and days. The wolf felt lonely. 

Seeming in answer to his silent need, there came unlooked for company. He found this neither odd nor frightening. His guests were not of his pack, nor even his kind. That he welcomed them was a sign of his understanding, and of his courage. The wolf had seen many things, and met many strangers. To him what followed was not unusual, only magical and much welcomed. 

From the depths of the night strode three great cats. First to draw near was the panther, dark as the night that spawned him. With reluctant tread he approached, then with a great sigh collapsed down at the wolf's side. With a lupine smile the wolf reached over and gave the great cat's muzzle a lick. Blinking, the panther looked back at the smiling wolf with curiously blue eyes. 

Then came the jungle cat, smaller, but well camouflaged in the night. Shadows mingled with the patterns on his coat, and he was much closer before the wolf saw him than the panther had been. He settled on the wolf's other side, and inspected his own toes for a second as if they held some deep meaning. Then he too sprawled to the ground. 

Last to come was the smallest. A raw boned Siamese, it's coat bright in the moonlight, boldly walking towards them, lying down across the wolf's front paws. Confident and trusting as any house cat he relaxed and began to purr. 

And the wolf was where he wanted to be. In the center of those that loved and cared for him. That he loved and cared for in return. The night was no longer silent, it was filled with the loving purr of cats, and the silent laughter of a happy wolf. 

* * *

Blair Sandburg sat up in bed. There was no silent lake before him, no jungle predators pressed close to his sides, keeping him safe. He did fell a little warm still, but his head was clear, his breathing no longer rattled in his chest. 

"Jim!" 

"Yeah Chief, you awake?" 

"No man, I'm talking in my sleep. Jeez. You know that cold medicine I gave you before?" Blare sought out a crumpled wrapper on his tissue littered side table. 

"Yeah?" 

"Well, I think it did have Peyote in it after all." 

Somewhere, a wolf smiled. 

The end. 


End file.
